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As a ten year old, some of my most enjoyable experiences were the trips
taken into the deep woods with my dog, Boy. These trips to the woods were
always filled with exciting rabbit hunts, visits to the large oak tree area
and the enchanting waterfall on Doc Lambert's property. To make all of this
possible, John Ice and his sisters provided their farm hills for us to climb
and enjoy. The only thing that they ever ask of us was that we respect
their property. So it goes, the story begins....... Early on a July morning, around 6 A.M., my dog Boy and I would sneak from the sleeping family and run up the road past my dads garden to John Ice's hills. Run, and I mean run like the wind because I knew if my mother saw me heading for the hills she would call me back home. She preferred for me to play in the back yard, however she knew my heart was high on the hills above us. Up the grassy hillside we would run, past the preacher's house, up Dale William's hill, slither under the rusty barb wire fence, run till our legs felt like Jello and then laid in the hay field until we caught our breath. Closing my eyes, I could hear my dog's rapid, irregular panting and feel his warm, moist breath blanketing my shoulder. My dog was a devoted companion and when I wanted to rest, he didn't just keep on going, he would come to my side and rest with me. These mornings were so wonderful....sun rise with gold tinted skies, birds singing their territorial songs, and I was alone with my dog on a West Virginia hillside basking in god's painting. It was as though we owned the hillside, the wind, the birds and the clouds. This need for occasional solitude in nature's painting has stayed with me throughout my life. It has given me time to think of nothing but the elements of nature and how they have come together to make life's breath. As my dog's panting became more regular, he and I were ready to go. At this point, we would jump up and race to the top of the hill. Nearing the tree line, we both would hit the ground, roll over and catch our breath again. We could now see the entire little town of Barrackville, nestled between four hills, lying beneath a pillow of early morning fog. This was a very peaceful scene which allowed one's thoughts to drift...... Being jarred back to reality by a distance bark, I could hear my dog on the trail of a wood's rabbit. Wood's rabbits were great runners and would take the dog on a chase that many times extended beyond my hearing range. The only thing to do was sit and wait, knowing he would eventually come back to me with the rabbit just in front of him. What you should understand is my dog and I knew these hills like the back of my hand. We knew where every squirrel den, rabbit and ground hog hole was located. We knew their habits, where they ate their meals and where they traveled at different times of the day. Being ten years old, I was not allowed to use or own a gun. I had to devise my own ingenuity in hunting rabbits. One of my favorite tricks was to cover my body with leaves, paint my face with mud, lay on my stomach and wait with my hands cupped around the rabbit's burrow. When the rabbit attempted to enter his den, I would snatch him with my hands. As my dog trailed the rabbit closer and closer to me, his barks became more frequent, for he anticipated seeing the rabbit and perhaps getting hold of it. Catching the rabbit was not a hundred percent, but I had a good enough catching average that my dog certainly believed he would see the rabbit when he saw me. Catching the rabbit would cause it to squeal and that would act as a catalyst to start things happening. My dog would come tearing through the woods like a Sherman Tank on the attack and would jump as high as he could to get the rabbit out of my hands. Being a sporting young boy and summer was not rabbit hunting season, I would let the rabbit go when I found what I thought was a comfortable briar patch. This eased the tension between the dog, rabbit and the entire eco-system. Until the squealing of the rabbit subsided, the entire woodland would be on the alert. Many times foxes and hawks would come within a few yards of us thinking a meal was being provided for them. Having had a successful hunt, it was time to go to the waterfall on Doc Lambert's place. The water fall was in a 30 acre section of woods which joined the 300 acre John Ice farm. As you can see, playing in this woodland was a big place for a 10 year old. There were two trails leading to the waterfall. The one I liked best went right past Doc's stone house located just inside the woods. His house was surrounded by large oak trees and squirrels seemed to be always playing on his elevated stone patio. I used to stand on the pathway and daydream about having a place of my own and I wanted it to be just like Doc Lambert's. Some people dream of heaven being on a cloud, but my heaven was always just like Doc Lambert's home and his magnificent trees..... My dog, knowing water was scarce in the woods, knew that a good drink of water and a soaking bath was waiting for him at the other end of the trail. He paid little attention to Doc's house and seldom gave it a glance as he seemed to quicken his pace. Down the trail we ran until we were both running full out and in a dead run for the falls. We would run for several minutes and then the air would cool with distant sounds of falling water. The waterfall was off to the right side of the trail which meant that a 90 degree detour was necessary to reach it. It was always fun to see who would reach the falls first and who would get the first drink. If my dog saw that I was ahead he would speed up and take a shortcut through the woods and when I arrived he would already be there drinking and wagging his tail. It was a fun time as I laid on my stomach and we drank the cool water. After getting a drink we both would find a deep pool and lay in it. I would splash my dog Boy who would bark and try to catch the water in his mouth. Before long we would both be soaking wet, decaying leaves would be dangling in our hair and have salamander scurrying for cover. Our time at the falls was most restful, air with a cool water freshness, a resting place of last years oak leaves, and the orchestrated music of the falling water. Over my childhood years, my dog and I spent hundreds of hours of uninterrupted peace at this place. Having rested up, the long walk back up the hilly wooded trail had to take place. The heat of the day had set in by now and this made the trip home actually seem much longer. However having my dog beside me seem to distract me from the intense heat, and before I knew it, I could see my home deep in the valley floor. It was nice to leave in the early morning, but now it was even nicer to know that we soon were going to get home. As the old saying goes, "There's no place like home", yes "Home Sweet Home". Running down the hill I could see my mother standing in the kitchen door way. In fact It always seemed like my mother was always standing in the door way when I would come home from one of my ventures. She would always greet me with a coined statement, " where in the world have you been, I was just going to have the police come to find you" After a volley of remarks, she would stop and say, did you see anything, are you hungry, and in the same motion she would open the screen door, hold her arms open to me, and just smile. Somehow it seemed as though my mother always knew where I had gone and knew that I was in good hands. My mother greeting me in the doorway, opening her arms to me, touching my face with her soft warm hands, and giving me a slice of fresh baked bread are engraved in my memory of her as though it were only yesterday. Nothing can surpass a mothers warmth and love for her children. When I think of the waterfall in Doc Lambert's woodland and the heavenly beauty that it displayed, I feel mother's love and she is there to welcome me home. |
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